Very PT (Patreon)

So this started out as a one liner caption when I posted this photo in a discord channel with the caption "Very personal trainer". Somewhere in my mind I was recalling another PT story where the trainer moved in into the home of the client. I'd like to write something around that some day, but this was clearly something different. The photo was then followed up with more comments like "he is checking out his form", and I had a few more puns lined up that needed a bit more work.

I then started to think about how unexpected this would be if they actually only had a professional relationship. Why would the PT sit on top of the client like that? The actual caption then grew longer and longer, and ultimately I decided to publish it as a short, short story instead.

I was toying with ideas on how the demon or whatever would keep the former victims from looking up each other. You as a victim of course don't know where the person who belonged to your current body ended up, in a domino of swaps going backward. But I think he doesn't care. He feels invincible from attacks from the recent swap victim, and don't care at all what happens further back.

One year later

I wasn't even fully clothed when I heard the doorbell. Damn, Caden was early. "Coming!" I shouted. Despite working in a gym, I have gotten in the habit of taking a run from work and home as a bit of afternoon cardio. It's nice to get some fresh air and unwind alone a bit after having to deal with people all day, inside the gym. I was just out of the shower, with socks and briefs on, when the doorbell rang. I grabbed a pair of nearby sweatpants and jumped into them as quickly as I could. Not finding anything better nearby I just grabbed the sweaty T-shirt I had just worn before the shower, and put that on as well.

I rushed over to the door and flung the door wide open. I expected to find my fuckbuddy Caden on the other side, but instead found myself face to face with a good looking man in his forties. He was dressed business casual, shirt and jacket, but no tie. He had piercing green eyes and a look of superiority. He quickly scanned me, my tussled wet hair, sweaty T-shirt and paint-stained sweatpants, uttered a curt "huh" and walked right past me into the living room like he owned the place.

"Still haven't replaced the uneven table I see."
"Hello. I'm Rick. Nice to meet you. Please come in." I said with as much sarcasm I could muster.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I used to be you. I had kind of hoped you would have done better for yourself. You were always so snotty about your business while you were my client."
"You! You are Rick!"
"Not anymore. This is so much better. Skip all those struggling years and straight into money and power. And the only thing Rick was good at was working out, and I can still do that, as you can see. Another benefit of money."
"Why are you here? Just to brag how awesome your life is? Why now? You know fucking damn well my position. No family that matters. No proof of education. No money. No connections."
"You're purposefully avoiding the real issue. Why now? I was dealing with enough shit on my end, and honestly I didn't really give a crap on how you were doing. I guess I felt a bit nostalgic."
"What real issue?"
"We both know you are form over function. I knew already in school I wouldn't do well in any job with too much thinking. Getting into this body it was almost painful how big the difference is."
"Fuck you and your good fortune."
"Well, I guess I'm close to overstaying my welcome. I did say I came for a reason though. You still have the family photo album."
"Yeah. Don't know why. It's not like I know who anyone is."
"I do. I give you $500 for it. I can see you clearly need the money."